


One Day

by a_windsor



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_windsor/pseuds/a_windsor
Summary: Maybe one day...(A standalone for now...)





	

This is a stand alone-ish. (You’ll see what I mean at the end.)

 

“Maybe you should try to date?” Felicity offers too casually, sipping on her soda and pointedly _not_ looking at Nyssa. 

Nyssa still doesn’t understand why she chose Star City, of all places, to spend her post-League existence. She supposes that it could be that everywhere she went she was surrounded by memories of Sara, so she might as well return to a place so steeped in both Lance sisters that she loved and lost, in their own ways. At least here she can keep an eye on their father.

Whatever the reason, in Star City she is, passing her time reading, learning, training, incapable of fitting into the “real world”, stalking the streets at night, avoiding Oliver Queen and searching out echoes of two Canaries, fighting to keep their legacies alive. 

(Sara is not gone the way that Laurel is gone, but she is absent all the same.)

The only contact Nyssa really has with the “civilian” world are the regular drop-ins on Captain Lance (“Jeez, Nyssa, the guys are starting to talk!”) and biweekly, standing dinner appointments with Felicity Smoak, who seems determined to not let her slip through the cracks. 

But Nyssa isn’t interested in dating. She doesn’t need romance or companionship - Sara was special because she was Sara. Nyssa is not looking to replace her, nor fill her nights with meaningless sex, or worse, inane conversation. Sara is her Beloved, will always be her Beloved, wherever and whenever she is now. But Felicity is being kind, and Nyssa moderates her tone accordingly. 

“No. Thank you.”

“Okay,” Felicity accepts. “But we have to expand your social circle somehow.”

“For what reason?”

“Humans are social creatures. And you lived surrounded by _lots_ of people your whole life.” 

“And yet so very alone. I do well with solitude, Felicity Smoak. And I always have our dinners to look forward to.”

Felicity smiles, quite genuinely, and Nyssa finds herself returning it. 

“Okay, well. I’m just making some suggestions.”

“I appreciate them, despite rejecting them. And I haven’t rejected all of them. I have made quite ample use of my library card.”

Felicity laughs, and their dinner arrives.

***

Nyssa let Sara go, what seems like a lifetime ago, made her leave her in that dungeon to fight her own battles. She had not expected Sara’s next step to be to hurtle through time, a fact Nyssa hadn’t even known until Laurel told her. She hopes the darkness she saw in Sara’s eyes does not consume her on her travels, hopes this new challenge can give Sara the opportunity to plot her own course that she so desperately needs. 

And, Nyssa hopes that Sara’s course will eventually bring her back to Nyssa’s side. If it doesn’t, though, at least her Yellow Bird finally had the chance to fly free. 

Still, if she does come home, Nyssa worries how Sara will forgive her, both for letting Darhk kill Laurel, and for not being there for her after he had. Her own shame and regret had kept her away. Her own grief had brought her right back to those first days after losing Sara, the aching soul and the _need_ for her. They had no way of contacting her, then, and when she did return… Sara wasn’t ready for what Nyssa needs from her, and Nyssa didn’t trust herself to be around her, no matter what Felicity admonished. 

Sara may never be ready, and that Nyssa can live with more easily than the thought of shackling Sara to her once again. 

Or the thought of Sara rejecting her outright.

***

Nyssa receives a text from an unknown number.

_It’s me._

She does not wonder who “me” is. 

_How soon can you make it to Star City?_

Nyssa pauses and then replies: _I am already here._

The dots that indicated that Sara is typing disappear and reappear several times.

 _Oh_ , finally pops up.

So eloquent, her beloved. 

_Can you meet me?_ An address follows. _Please?_

 _Of course, habib-_ Nyssa begins to type. She thinks again and types instead: _Of course, Sara._

_Thank you. I’ll see you on the roof._

***

Nyssa comes dressed for battle. Sara hadn’t been specific as to why she wanted to meet, so she came prepared in case. 

On the roof, Nyssa is so overcome by the sigh of clear-eyed, tentatively smiling Sara that she barely registers the strange air vehicle parked behind her.

“Hey,” Sara says.

“Hello.”

“Thanks for coming.”

She’s nervous.

So is Nyssa.

It’s absurd. They have known each other for years, been intimate in every way, shared every moment of their lives, and yet… It is all new.

“Of course, habibti.” It slips out now, habit but still true, without the filter of seeing it written. “Always.”

“I know,” Sara says honestly. “Why… Why are you in Star City?”

“I live here,” Nyssa answers simply, honestly, though she still has no answer for the deeper why. Perhaps it was for exactly this reason, to be available at a moment’s notice. Available to Sara.

“Oh,” Sara says again.

Nyssa aches to touch her, aches to kiss her, but does not.

“Why are you here?” she asks instead.

“Pit stop,” is all Sara gives. “And while we had the time, I just… I’ve been thinking about you, a lot. I wanted to see you. Make sure you were okay.”

Nyssa does not have a reply to that. “Pit stop” told her all she needed to know, a colloquialism Sara herself taught her. This is temporary. Sara is not ready to come home.

“The last time we saw each other was… I need you to know that I’m okay. That I’m doing something _good_. Protecting the timeline, keeping history safe. It’s… important. For the first time. I feel like I just need you to know that.”

“I am glad.”

“I’m not there yet, but I think I might even be… healing, or something. Becoming who Laurel saw in me.”

Nyssa feels the tears, but does not allow them. Sara suddenly reaches out and pulls her into a fierce hug.

“I can’t stay,” she whispers against Nyssa’s shoulder.

“I know,” Nyssa promises.

“I needed to see you.”

“I know.”

Sara pulls away, impulsively kisses Nyssa’s cheek. It stings and yet knocks the air back into Nyssa’s lungs.

“Thank you.”

“Always, habibti.”

“Are you… okay?”

“Sara…”

“Nyssa…”

“I need little in my life to survive.”

Sara doesn’t like that answer, but she accepts it. 

“Maybe once I’m done,” Sara says. “Once I come home.”

The word slices at Nyssa.

“I’m not saying wait for me or anything!” Sara adds quickly. “Live your life. You deserve it, after all you’ve been through. But maybe then, we’ll finally get this thing right.”

The smile that Sara gives is forced, but Nyssa is too busy refusing to cry to think about its meaning. 

“Maybe, habibti,” Nyssa replies, briefly pressing a hand to Sara’s cheek. 

“Maybe.”

Sara meets her eyes, and the love is there, it’s _always_ there, but she’s otherwise unreadable to Nyssa, for perhaps the first time.

Finally, Sara says:

“I should go.”

“Be safe, Sara.”

Sara almost flinches at the sound of her name, but nods anyway.

“You too.”

Sara turns to leave, and Nyssa has to turn away, too.

This time, she’s not strong enough to watch her walk away. 

Nyssa walks back towards the stairwell, forcing her steps forward, losing the battle not to cry, thinking of the books and the tea and routine waiting for her.

Thinks of maybe.

Thinks of one day.

***

Fin. Kinda...

(You could of course, if you don’t like hopeful angst, read this as dovetailing into [THIS](http://a-windsor.tumblr.com/post/142321294751/for-the-prompt-for-nyssara-stop-wait-right-there). Which might one day (lol) turn into something bigger. But for now.)


End file.
